


Like Screwing for Virginity

by windfallswest



Series: Love or War [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, New Warriors
Genre: Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Smut, Superpower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Round Two</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Screwing for Virginity

**Author's Note:**

> Flows directly on from _Fuck the War_.

Vance drifted off into a sated doze. This bed was big enough that they weren't squashing each other, but there was a certain amount of enjoyable overlap. One of Kaine's hands rubbed absently up and down the back of his neck, lulling him.

To his surprise, Kaine was still there when he opened his eyes, although he couldn't have said how long he'd been out. The weight of his hand still rested on Vance's shoulder. Under his cheek, Kaine's chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths.

Idly, Vance traced a line up his side; they hadn't even made it under the sheets. _He sure is something to look at._

As soon as he moved, he felt Kaine stir. Blunt fingernails scraped lightly down Vance's back. Every hair he owned rose to attention, in a pleasant way for once. Then Kaine clapped him on the ass.

Vance yipped, which, in his defence, he suddenly realised that his ass was _really_ sore. "Jerk."

"Mm." Kaine tilted towards him and leaned down for a lazy kiss. 

"Hrrungh," Vance grumbled, appeased enough to cooperate. 

There were definitely some more twinges in the process of tangling all their limbs together in a knot of sweaty humping. Vance could totally play with pain, though. _Yeah_ , he thought as Kaine bit his lower lip, _big challenge. Dig deep._

"Do I remember something," Kaine said into his mouth, "about doing it again?"

Vance felt a grin stretch itself across his face. "Remind me."

Kaine licked into his stinging mouth again, tongue thrusting pretty explicitly. Not a lot of room for misinterpretation, there. Directness was one of Kaine's better qualities. Sometimes. 

Vance was a little apprehensive about how this was going to go; but mostly, mostly he wanted. So he took it, everything Kaine was laying out, like punches in a fight, and gave it back as ferociously. Teeth clashed, cock rubbed against hard cock, and their hands slid from groping to bruising grips.

Somehow, they found themselves sideways on the bed, Vance at least trying to remember how his lungs were supposed to operate. Kaine, mouthing a trail down his chest where there were still sticky smudges of come, tilted his head to rasp his stubble over one of Vance's nipples. _Okay, not helping with the breathing._

Kaine placed a final bite like punctuation just above Vance's naval, then reached for the open nightstand drawer. Vance spread hands over the amazing musculature flexing above him. It was his first chance for a really good look at Kaine's dick. He was uncut, that was different; and plenty big as far as Vance was concerned. The memory of what that had felt like driving into him shivered under his skin.

"Fuck," Kaine swore, bucking into his hand. The condom he'd found tumbled to the stirred sheets.

"Lube?" Vance asked hopefully. He had no idea where it had ended up.

Instead of answering, Kaine dropped to his elbows again and took up where he'd left off. Stubble prickled sharply against Vance's hip, and then Kaine's tongue was licking a stripe up the side of his cock.

Vance's eyes crossed watching him. He snatched up the condom before it was lost to god and man. Not that they were going to need it if Kaine kept going at him like a popsicle. The man's mouth was amazing. He turned into the palm cradling his head and lapped at the traces of his own pre-come. 

That was so distracting Vance didn't even notice what else he was doing until fingers were probing at his opening. They slipped in easily, and Kaine nipped his fingers.

"Lube?" he inquired sweetly.

"Fuuuuck," Vance groaned, because that was dirty and hot and Kaine's fingers were still sliding in and out of him. He started to spread his legs, giving Kaine more room, but a sharp spike of protest lanced up the back of his thigh. "...Or maybe not."

"Having problems?" Kaine paused with his fingers crooked at a very sensitive angle.

Vance felt stupidly indignant even though his actively functional cock was literally right in Kaine's face. "Not all of us are double-jointed."

An evil grin curved Kaine's wet and slightly swollen lips as he sat back on his heels, leaving Vance stretched open and unsatisfied with his head hanging over the the edge of the mattress. "Sure. So get on your knees."

"Excuse me?"

Kaine and his super-abs bent down close. "Get up on your hands and knees for me," he said huskily, "and I will fuck you from behind."

Vance was pretty sure he was not in any way playing it cool. Just being able to hang onto a _little_ dignity, was that too much to ask? Irritably, he used his power to push Kaine back. He leaned up on his elbows and tossed the condom at Kaine, who caught it before it bounced off his stupid nose. "Suit up."

It was galling, but Kaine was right about the position. And would he rather have dignity or sex? _Really, really good sex,_ Vance reminded himself. Still, he felt exposed, heat prickling up the back of his neck. 

The first touch startled him; not being able to see Kaine was putting him off balance. Even just that little contact blazed across Vance's nerves, the brush of rough fingers starting between his shoulder-blades and skimming down the length of his spine. _Oh_. Kaine's hands settled more predictably on his ass, squeezing appreciatively, then holding him open. Vance found himself holding his breath; the suspense was going to kill him.

He flicked a gentle wave of telekinesis out, like he did sometimes in the dark, and found Kaine's dick pointing straight at his hole. From the sharp intake of breath, Kaine felt _something_. Vance fought the urge to just grab his cock and put it where he needed it. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle," crooned Kaine in about the most patronising tone that was physically possible.

Vance bit his tongue because everything he could think of to say right then would have sounded like a really regrettable pun, and also because Kaine chose that moment to push in. Just the head seemed to take forever, opening him in an excruciatingly slow, stinging stretch. Once it was all the way inside, Kaine stopped, then he pulled back, just a little, not _quite_ hard enough to overcome the ring of muscular resistance, teasing him with that bit of pressure. 

He kept it up, working incrementally deeper in short, shallow thrusts until he had Vance pushing back to meet him. The slow, grinding rhythm building between them should have done something to take the sting out of Kaine's words, but it didn't. Never before had Vance wanted so badly to punch somebody in the face while they were actually screwing. Kaine's jibes weren't even that exceptionable; the man just got under his skin like nobody's business. He was driving Vance crazy.

Or maybe that was just the effect of Kaine's cock rocking over his sweet spot with relentless precision. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , he was not going to beg; he didn't have to. He had Kaine's hands all over him, Kaine's dick inside him; and there, that was Kaine's mouth revisiting last night's bruises. 

Vance's fists clenched in the sheets. He took it; he _liked_ it, god, amazing, but he needed more. If he could just—feel all that sweat-sheened skin still, and Kaine's strong back flexing as he worked his cock in and in, maybe, god yes, grab his ass, rake fingernails up his inner thigh...

He let the power wash over Kaine in a telekinetic rush, moulding to his body as closely as water. Behind him, Kaine cried out when Vance mimicked the startled twist he'd just given his nipple, breath hot on his neck. "Motherfucking sonuvabitch."

With another effort of will, Vance trailed a touch down past the base of his spine into the crevice between his cheeks. He could have just reached inside, but this was much more satisfying. The projection wormed its way past the tight muscle, extending itself in a thin tendril of force to work on Kaine's prostate.

His hips jerked a little, spasmodically. "God, I bet women never let you up." 

Vance grinned at the pillows in gratification. "I've never had any complaints." Although the truth was he'd had way more years than he wanted to admit to practice that trick solo before he tried it out on anyone else. 

It was working for him now, well worth the demand on his already fraying focus, because in a weird way he was now feeling twice as much. Their rhythm turned harsher, more desperate.

Kaine wrapped an arm around his chest and a hand around his cock and kept fucking him deep and slow and hard. That was all it took. 

Kaine stilled; and Vance, Vance didn't think he was ever going to stop coming. He strained futilely to bow backwards against Kaine's hard body and tight hold.

A hot tongue swiped Vance's ear, followed by sharp teeth. It took him a moment longer to realise he was the reason Kaine wasn't moving anymore.

Slowly, Vance released his grip. Kaine rubbed his stubbly jaw against Vance's and ground back into motion. They were really—holding Kaine like that had _really_ fired him up. Vance was trying to keep the projection in sync with his thrusts, but it was taking more concentration than he had if Kaine was going to keep making his vision go in and out.

Instead, Vance made it bigger. Kaine growled approval and bit his neck again. He then set to proving that he was entirely capable of fucking both himself and Vance senseless. 

Vance was a twitching mess by the time he finally finished. He would have collapsed without Kaine's grip like a band of steel across his chest. It never slackened as Kaine tipped over sideways, taking Vance with him perforce.

 

The next time Vance woke up, he was alone, although someone had cleaned the worst of the mess from him and pulled the covers up. A smile stretched his face, undeterred. He felt _amazing_.

Also, deeply in need of a shower and a piss, not in that order. Hot water felt like ecstasy, especially after so much time living with Robbie in a rusty truck. Robbie had done some hard growing up, but there _had_ to be easier people to live with in close quarters. Still, as gap years went, it had been better than prison. 

Vance reluctantly left the shower's beguiling clutches and pulled on his unused pyjama bottoms before continuing with the rest of his morning routine. The lights were still low as he floated out into the hallway, but there was a pre-dawn glow filtering in through the windows in the kitchen as he put on the coffee.

Sam had rocketed off home last night, or he was supposed to have, but aside from himself and Mark, the New Warriors didn't strike him as morning people. The smell of coffee might have roused Selah by now, though.

It was actually Robbie who wandered in, looking sleepless and pensive. His pale eyebrows shot upwards when he caught sight of Vance finishing off his toast.

"Dude, you look _mauled_ ," he said approvingly.

 _No blaming this on a stuffed bear._ Vance had gotten a good look at himself in the mirror when he was shaving, and...it was a good thing his costume still covered his neck. "Good morning to you, too."

Robbie's eyes narrowed. "Seriously, walk, I dare you."

Vance stretched his arms and turned lazily in mid-air. He was literally too mellow to come down.

Robbie barked a laugh. "So, you and cranky, off-brand Spider-Man, huh?"

"Apparently. I'm not sure; he's not a big communicator."

"Well, not unless you count swear-words. He's worse than half the Thunderbolts." Robbie grinned at him slyly; needling Vance was evidently so entertaining it counterbalanced the mental and emotional catastrophe that was Robbie's time under Osborn. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah, actually," Vance said. 

"Hah! I remember that look. Super Tights, going for the bad boys now."

"Yeah, by the way, have I thanked you yet for calling me that where people can hear you?"

"Hey, you used to call yourself _Marvel Boy_ where people could hear you."

"Uh-huh. And I'm sure Speedball really conjures up the image you want to project with the ladies," Vance shot back. 

"My therapists always called that 'deflexion'."

"Funny, so did mine."

Robbie snorted. 

"Okay, okay. I really wouldn't mind talking it out some," Vance said.

"Deal. But only if we take it outside."

For them, _outside_ wasn't a balcony, or even the slopes of the mountain. They hovered half a mile out from the base, at an altitude where the temperature was merely comfortable. Morning sunlight glinted on the water stretching out before and below, dotted with fishing boats and transport ships coming and going from the city behind them.

"Man," Robbie breathed reverently, "You do not get tired of that."

"No, you really don't," Vance agreed.

The New Warriors had always had more than their share of flyers on the team, but Robbie wasn't one of them. Vance's telekinesis hadn't always been as dependable as it was now, though. Once he'd gotten to the point where he could reliably keep himself in the air, he'd needed additional weight to practice with. Robbie was at least more entertaining company than barbells or weighted duffels, and they both lived far enough north of the city carpooling part of the way made sense. Plus, as Thrash had pointed out with characteristic delicacy and tact, Robbie bounced really well. 

It was possible Vance had also practiced his telekinetic throwing-arm using Robbie as the ball. No blaming that one on Thrash. Connecticut was a long way from Manhattan, all right? It had all been very practical.

In retrospect, it was a wonder they'd never hit an airplane.

But this had become something of a habit for them. Mid-air was more crowded than it used to be, but even in Manhattan it had been more private than just about anywhere else, and there had been no one to laugh at the gawping out-of-towners. Later, Vance and Angel had spent more than one date looking down on the blaze of light that was the city that never sleeps. Now that he had actual sex to compare it to, Vance could honestly say that flying together had been nearly as good. Sex _while_ flying, now, that would be something, if you could locate a private enough patch of sky. 

"Soooo...cranky, off-brand Spider-Man?" Robbie prompted.

"I like him," Vance said instantly.

"Duh."

"Shut up." Vance gave him a friendly shove. "I like him on the team. He's got experience from somewhere, and a good heart underneath it all." 

"Hummingbird likes him. And hey, she likes me, so good judge of character."

"What I'm saying is, I wouldn't want to date someone I wouldn't at least trust on the team," Vance said, ignoring that last remark.

"Well, you haven't so far."

Vance coughed, his face heating, and levelled his best glare at Robbie. Like everything else you threw at him, it bounced right off.

Gathering back up his composure, Vance barrelled on. "The problem is, I don't even know if we're dating. This isn't me. I don't just...charge blindly ahead with my hormones leading the way."

"What are the chances I get you to admit this is a sexual identity crisis?" Robbie asked wistfully.

"I've, um, kissed guys before," Vance admitted awkwardly.

Robbie's head snapped around so fast it came close to activating his kinetic field. "Whatwhatwhat?"

"Well, once before I joined the New Warriors, you know, when I ran away to the circus that time. And during the Civil War I woke up one morning with Stingray, an empty bottle of aquavit, and stubble burn. All our clothes were still on, though."

"Yikes. There's an image no amount of bleach will scour from my mind," Robbie complained. "I think you were right about the evils of drink, After School Special Boy."

"I did a lot of stupid things then." Vance brooded unhappily on the memory. Half their friends had just died; heroes he'd looked up to had gone completely insane; his best friend got put in intensive care by a lynch mob. It had also been about two seconds after he'd lost Angel, their entire future gone up in smoke.

Robbie stabbed a finger at him. "See, I know you've, like, brainwashed yourself into thinking you're forty, but you're still young, man! It won't kill you to loosen up and have some fun every once in a while."

"Sex shouldn't just be a meaningless—" Vance started, frustrated.

"Okay, so put it this way," Robbie interrupted. "Your boy Scarlet Spider: a people person he ain't. Seems to me, he wouldn't be letting just anybody get all up in his business. So, are you freaking out because you feel something for him, or because you don't?" Robbie asked, glancing away from the view to pin him with something other than the mischief Vance was accustomed to in his clear blue eyes. "I'm not the only one who's been through a lot these past few years. It changes you."

"But it doesn't have to destroy you." 

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Geez, I liked you better soppy with afterglow. Go get laid again, why doncha?"

Instead of taking the bait, Vance inhaled and leaned back against empty air with the tropical sun blazing down at him while he thought. He was keeping up another shield to deflect the wind, but not bothering to compensate for the residual drift just yet. A flock of seagulls clamoured in the distance.

Sex with Kaine was amazing, but Vance had never had a relationship like this, founded on it. He'd come close a couple of times during the war, when they'd all been running on fear, passion, and adrenaline. Once, it had been more than close.

It hadn't been the first time he'd hoped for. Among other things, that encounter had been more than a little driven by a desire he wasn't very proud of not to die a virgin. But there had been some measure of...grace in what happened between himself and Asp, even thought it was never going to be anything more. Just like there was something deeper between himself and Kaine. 

It was hard not to punch him in the face. It was hard not to screw him through the mattress. It was hard not to want to help him. 

"I've never gotten so close to someone so fast. What if it's a mistake?"

Robbie didn't say anything for a long moment. "You enjoy it while you've got it. Even if you get hurt later, that doesn't just zero everything out."

The silence that followed that statement hung between them, heavy with hard memories. Vance kicked himself again for not finding Robbie sooner and getting him the hell out of that madhouse. Never mind that for a lot of that time Robbie hadn't wanted to be found; Vance had lost track of him in the middle of the war, after he'd been shot, and when he'd joined up with the Initiative afterwards, _no one had told him anything_. He'd been distracted by other things, and then, then...well, Osborn was lucky Vance had a grip on his anger issues. And mostly that someone else had caught up with him before Vance knew how much he had to be angry about.

Yes, mistakes hurt; and Vance had made his share. No wonder he was a little gun-shy.

From the smirk on his face, Robbie's thoughts had run along a different track.

"What?"

"I just remember when you were such a good boy."

This was going to end so poorly.

**Author's Note:**

> Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity.  
>  _—Unknown_


End file.
